Normally I celebrate the birth of a baby, any baby (except those unfortunate celebrity mutants) is the source of joyous celebration, mylar helium balloons, cheesy floral arrangements, bouquets of bottles that will go unused, the unwanted relations milling around and pigging the relish tray. A new life is a wonderous addition to our experience, an equivocation of our own existential despair.
But I'm a little reluctant to break out the confetti for Baby 300 Million, the newborn who just pushed the US population into "where are we going to put all these people?" territory. I know the little bundle of joy had no choice in the matter and I hate to think of the legacy the kid will have to live with but I confess I resent the landmark the baby represents. And yes, if not her/him it would have been another child (and 300 Million is "just a number") but really, this "go forth and multiply" imperitive has gotten too far out of hand.
Your own gripes will be appreciated.
Mea culpa to the mixmania! participants. The angel Mamacita will be mailing out the matches tonight (I do love her so!) and the mail-by date will be adjusted accordingly.